


These Familiar Places

by atomictourist



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, a little bit of Stacker Pentecost/Hercules Hansen if you squint, cursing, sad fic, vague references to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomictourist/pseuds/atomictourist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tendo Choi walked his customary path to LOCCENT. Aside from his slicked back hair, he hadn’t bothered putting the usual effort into his appearance. Suspenders hung from sagging pants, swinging as he walked, and where his bowtie should have been there was a wrinkled shirt collar with the top two buttons undone. The bustle of the Shatterdome had given way to an eerie hush, and the click of his shoes on metal grating sounded wrong to his ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Familiar Places

Tendo Choi walked his customary path to LOCCENT. Aside from his slicked back hair, he hadn’t bothered putting the usual effort into his appearance. Suspenders hung from sagging pants, swinging as he walked, and where his bowtie should have been there was a wrinkled shirt collar with the top two buttons undone. The bustle of the Shatterdome had given way to an eerie hush, and the click of his shoes on metal grating sounded wrong to his ears.

They were approaching 48 hours since the Breach and it showed on Tendo’s face. The celebration had eventually tapered off as the sun came up. Those who weren’t content with two days and nights of revelry had taken it into the streets of Hong Kong, joining the civilians there. They were still dancing in the streets, he heard, but he hadn’t been outside to see. Now it was time to recover who they could and mourn the honored dead.

The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps and United Nations were planning a ceremony later in the week. In San Francisco of all places. They wanted to honor Stacker Pentecost, the man who saved the world. It made Tendo’s jaw clench, the muscles rippling visibly. The politicians who had abandoned them now wanted to honor the man who had done what they wouldn’t. Pentecost was already being held up as an almost martyr around the world. Statues were being commissioned in all Shatterdome locations. The politicians wanted in on that glory. Tendo only hoped the people would see through it.

He entered LOCCENT with only some of his usual confident stride, wishing he’d remembered coffee. The first thing he saw was Marshall Hansen still at the display, exactly where he’d left him two nights ago. He didn’t need to peer too closely at the display to know what the new Marshall was looking at; it was a readout of the area where Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka had gone down to the Breach, where Mako and Raleigh had resurfaced, where Pentecost and Chuck Hansen had sacrificed themselves. Tendo pretended not to notice what Hansen was looking at, though, as he made his way around the console.

“Good morning, Marshall,” he said and also pretended not to see Hansen’s red-rimmed eyes.

The older man shook his head and closed the display with an embarrassed expression. His eyes focused on Tendo. “Bloody hell, Choi, you look like shit.”

“Man, I will never go drinking with Striker Eureka’s chief engineer again,” Tendo said.

Hansen chuckled and smiled for the first time in months. “Oy I could’ve told you that, mate. She’s a pisser. She and Chuck used to…” 

Hansen’s voice trailed off into awkward silence as his face sank once again. “Why are you up here Mr. Choi?”

“Just thought I’d come up, you know, see what’s going on. Where’d Mako and Raleigh get off to?”

The two copilots had stayed long enough to be paraded around the Shatterdome by an enthusiastic crowd before the medics had dragged them to sickbay for a thorough exam. No one had seen them since, and judging by how they couldn’t stop touching each other, Tendo figured they had holed up in Mako’s or Raleigh’s quarters to get to know each other better.

It made sense. Their neural handshake was the strongest Tendo had ever seen. Not for the first time, he wondered what it was like to have that kind of connection with someone. The way Mako and Raleigh had stared at each other made Tendo long to see Allison and their son. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen them in almost a year. Tendo shook off the thought. There would be time for that later; all the time in the world now that the kaiju were gone.

Marshall Hansen rolled his eye, but there was a tender smile on his face. “They’re over there.”

Tendo followed his line of sight to the big window that overlooked the jaeger bays. Sitting in a chair by the window was Raleigh and on further observation Tendo saw that Mako was curled up in his lap. She seemed impossibly tiny with his arms wrapped protectively around her. Mako’s face was pressed into the crook of Raleigh’s neck and she moved ever so slightly with the rise and fall of his chest. It looked as though they had been staring out at Gipsy’s empty bay, and had long since fallen asleep. 

“I figured they’d be ripping each other’s clothes off by now,” he said.

Hansen shrugged. “I found them like that when I came up this morning. I figured give ‘em some time to rest.”

Tendo nodded. “Yeah...it’s gonna be a media circus out there. I’d bet money Raleigh’s gonna punch the first reporter who talks shit to Mako.”

That earned him a chuckle from the Marshall. “How goes the recovery effort?” he asked, once again serious.

And just like that it was back to business. Tendo sighed. “I’ll look into it, sir. We were hoping to hold a memorial service later this week.”

A small crew had stayed behind while the others celebrated to recover what they could of Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon. No one mentioned that they hoped to recover the bodies of the Kaidanovskys and the Wei Triplets. The heroes of Vladivostok and Hong Kong Harbor deserved to a proper burial. There would be no such thing for Stacker Pentecost or Chuck Hansen, and no one mentioned that either.

Marshall Hansen smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good. I’ll tell the UN fucks to shove it up their arse with their bloody memorial service. We honor our dead here.”

“Yes, sir,” Tendo said. He felt a burgeoning respect for the new Marshall. Previously he hadn’t given Hansen much thought, mostly because their schedules were so busy. Hercules Hansen was half of Striker Eureka, sharing the record for highest kill count in the PPDC, and he was always close behind Stacker Pentecost everywhere they went. It had only been a mere 48 hours since the breach closed, but already Tendo saw that Hansen was a more than worthy successor.

Grumbles and sighs in the vicinity of the bay window caught Tendo’s attention. Raleigh and Mako stirred from their cramped sleeping position in the chair. “Why are we telling the UN fucks to shove it up their arse?” Raleigh asked. Even though his voice was thick with sleep, he still managed a passable impression of Hansen’s aussie accent on the word “arse.”

Mako stretched like a cat in his arms, and Tendo realized for the first time that she was wearing one of Raleigh’s sweaters. She mumbled a question in Japanese and Raleigh answered easily. When their eyes met, it was obvious that they saw only each other.

Tendo felt a pang of longing, realizing that it would likely still be months before he saw Allison again. He wondered if their son would even recognize him, but he shook off the thought, clearing his throat and pulling himself up straight. “Come on you two love birds,” he said, “we’ve got work to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fluff piece about Tendo finding Mako and Raleigh sharing earbuds, but it turned into what you just read. The shared earbuds didn't make an appearance. Maybe they will next time.


End file.
